


The Angel of My Dreams

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Accidental Confessions [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel/Demon Sex, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Idiots in Love, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Thank you for understanding, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Crowley (Good Omens), dubcon, it has been brought to my attention that some of Zira's actions could be seen as dubcon, it's mild, it's mild but could possibly make some people uncomfortable, quite extraordinary amounts of smut, so please keep that in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: Crowley is blissfully unaware that he sometimes talks in his sleep. Aziraphale doesn't bother to bring it up until one night when the demon falls asleep in the bookshop and says some rather...interesting things.**Edit**I added a few new tags, based around "dubious consent" due to a comment that pointed out that some things Zira says and does at one point may teeter into non-consent territory. This was no my intent in the writing, but there is a bit of forcefulness that does not involve any kind of explicit consent given, so to cover all bases, please just be aware of the possibility that this may make some people uncomfortable. Thanks!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Accidental Confessions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554925
Comments: 61
Kudos: 745
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	The Angel of My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> There's not really much to say about this. I felt like writing smut, and here we are. Enjoy! XD
> 
> I thrive on your love, so please let me know what you think!  
> If you enjoy my writing, please check out my other stuff by browsing my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com!

Prior to the Apocalypse That Wasn't, it had not been entirely unknown for the demon called Crowley to spend the night at the bookshop of the angel called Aziraphale. He tried not to make a habit of it, but on nights when the wine they shared flowed too freely, the conversation spilled too enjoyably, it seemed much simpler to sprawl out on the couch in the angel's back room than to sober up and head back to his Mayfair flat.

_ Thereafter  _ said Not-Apocalypse these stays became more and more frequent. They didn't speak aloud of the trigger for the change, but they both understood that there were, in fact, multiple good reasons that prompted Crowley to camp out at A.Z. Fell & Co more nights than not. For one thing, Crowley's fear of leaving the angel alone after witnessing the bookshop burn was a black stain on his heart that wasn't about to vanish any time soon. For another, now that they didn't have to fear a fatal retribution from Heaven or Hell, Aziraphale found he was quite keen to have Crowley as close as possible as often as possible.

So they ate out (and sometimes in), and drank, and talked, and laughed, and skirted around their feelings in a way that only truly ineffable fools can manage, and if Crowley spent the night (and sometimes much of the following day) snoring on Aziraphale's plush old couch, well...that was just fine.

So that was how things progressed for several weeks, which became several months, and really it was only a matter of time - statistically speaking - before something came to a head.

They'd spent a good portion of the evening at a delightful little French restaurant that had just opened down the road from the bookshop, and had followed that up by sampling a bottle each of every French wine Aziraphale could find in his cellar. It was now two in the morning and Crowley had, per his new tradition, covered as much of the couch as possible with such a thing, gangly body and promptly passed out with his lips just barely parted.

Aziraphale had to admit that he rather enjoyed this bit of the night's festivities. As had become  _ his  _ new tradition, the angel gently removed the shaded glasses from the demon's face, draped a soft tartan throw over his lanky body, and sat down in the armchair opposite with a tea and a book.

It was peaceful and lovely, and it felt somehow like...home. Much more so than the bookshop had ever felt on its own.

He was just settling into his book when Crowley began to mumble in his sleep. Since the demon had been spending more time sleeping in the shop, Aziraphale had been privy to the occasional bout of sleep-talking. He hadn't bothered to bring it up with Crowley because he imagined the demon might be embarrassed and didn't want to give him any excuse to decide not to stay over anymore. And besides, when the demon did speak in his sleep - which was hardly every night - he mostly spoke a litany of nonsense involving things like 'conniving ducks' and 'giant killer marshmallows'. 

On this particular night, however, after a bit of incoherent muttering, the first clear word that fell from Crowley's lips was a soft, " 'Zira...phale…" It was so clear, in fact, that the angel actually responded with a, "Yes dear?" before looking up and seeing that the demon was still quite unconscious. 

A little smile twitched across Aziraphale's face, followed by a pleasant chuckle.  _ How sweet,  _ he thought.  _ I'm flattered! I wonder what he's dreaming about? _

With pleased curiosity floating around in his head the angel returned to his book only for another few words to float his way almost immediately. 

" 's good...angel…'s...nice…"

This time Aziraphale's eyebrow rose above his (pointless) little reading glasses. "I didn't know you were capable of using those words without bursting into flame," he muttered to himself with another small chuckle on his breath. Internally, however, a thought process was beginning to turn in his head.  _ What is it that's 'good' and 'nice', I wonder? And what has it got to do with me? _

He watched the demon for several long minutes, brow furrowed, waiting for another hint but getting none. 

It was with some amount of frustration that the angel eventually returned to his book, not quite as interested in it as he'd been earlier. 

He was just lifting his tea to his lips when a positively sinful sound came from deep within Crowley's throat, making Aziraphale jump and splash tea over his book. 

"Oh for Heaven's-" the angel growled. He gave the book a little shake (after which it was miraculously dry and stain-free) and set it on the table to focus his attention on the sleeping demon. "Are you even asleep?" he asked aloud. "Or are you making such...devilish sounds just to perturb me?"

No response. 

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and lifted his tea once more while keeping his gaze forward.

"Uhhnn…'Zira...pleassse... _ harder… _ "

The angel's mug shattered, spraying tea and porcelain splinters across the shop. 

The sound, which was somewhat alike to a firecracker, woke Crowley with a start and a snort. He propped himself on one elbow, blinking blearily at Aziraphale with hazy eyes. His hair was dishevelled and the tartan throw had slid to the floor when he jumped. In a sleepy, half-awake voice he asked, "W'us wrong, angel?"

But Aziraphale had no words. He instead stared wide-eyed, with his tea-soaked hand still partway to his mouth. He was quite unable to move.

"Angel?" Crowley's eyes managed to grow a bit more awake as he took in Aziraphale's face. "What's wrong?"

_ Nothing! Nothing is wrong! It's just that those sound you made, those curious, enticing sounds - there's really no mistaking those kinds of sounds my dear, and you were saying them in conjunction with my name...my name! _

"I- You-" were the only noises the angel was able to get out of him mouth. 

"Angel, speak to me, did something-" Crowley had shifted on the couch to better face the angel and cringed when he felt the way his trousers tightened and pinched. Realization dawned like a punch in the stomach when he finally took in the state of himself. He grabbed frantically for the dropped throw to hide the evidence, even as his face was rapidly burning the same color as his flaming hair. "I, uh, that is. I just-"

The demon's stuttering seemed to loosen the spell on Aziraphale's tongue. "You were dreaming about  _ me, _ " he choked out. 

The demon's red face immediately went as white as freshly fallen snow. "W-what?" he squeaked. 

Aziraphale wasn't actively sending the words from his brain to his mouth, but they came out regardless. "You were talking in your sleep," he gasped, unable to find the oxygen to speak properly. "You...you...said my name, and-" A rather violent gulp. "-and o-other things…"

Crowley's eyes went entirely yellow, without a hint of white to be seen and pupils that were barely visible, and suddenly he was sprinting for the door. 

The panicked motion snapped Aziraphale out of his stupor just fast enough that, with a snap of his fingers, he made it to the door just ahead of the demon and blocked it with his body.

Stopping just shy of colliding with the angel, the demon raised his own fingers to snap, but found Aziraphale's hand crushing his own to stop the action. He cried out in alarm as the angel snatched his other hand out of the air as well and held him, trapped. The demon struggled, panicked, desperate to get away, but the angel was much stronger physically, and he gave no purchase for escape. 

"Crowley, dear, please, calm down!" Aziraphale cried. "Let's talk about this!"

Crowley kept yanking at his limbs indiscriminately, but as it became clear that the angel was not going to back down he slowed, then stilled, and then whimpered. " 'm sorry!" came the tiny, pathetic plea. " 'm sorry angel! P-please don't hate me!"

That, finally, made Aziraphale release his friend, though he did keep his eyes open for twitchy fingers. "Oh, my dear," he huffed. "Of all the ridiculous things to say! As if I could ever  _ hate  _ you." He made his face as soft as possible to make sure Crowley understood that there was no danger.

Crowley's body relaxed the tiniest amount. He continued to look like a cornered animal. "R-really?" Disbelief. He'd really thought it was going to be over, right here, right now.

Aziraphale let out a deep sigh he hadn't realized he was holding in. "Of course, dear," he assured the other. "You just...surprised me, is all." The angel felt blood flushing hot to his cheeks as he spoke. "I didn't realize- That is, I never would have imagined that I would be...your type."

It came out in such a small, self-deprecating way that Crowley acted out of pure instinct, wrapping his long fingers around the other's shoulders. "Angel, you are beautiful and perfect in every way! How could that  _ not  _ be my type?"

And now they were both blushing, the angel a bright pink, the demon a deep scarlet. Via some kind of Herculean effort Crowley managed to leave his hands right where they were without beginning to tremble. 

"Really?" Aziraphale asked, voice quiet.

Crowley gulped audibly. He struggled for a way to play this off, to make himself come off as cool and suave and in control, but he didn't seem to be able to scrape together two brain cells to light the way to salvation. "My type  _ is you _ , angel," he managed, and immediately cringed.  _ Too much, too far, too fast!  _ "That is, I mean-" He stumbled back and pulled his hands away to flutter them through the air uselessly. "I-I obviously don't expect anything, because, I mean, a-and, that is, y-you can just forget it ever happened and I, um, I-I won't s-sleep here anymore, and-"

The demon's corporation's heart flared and stopped dead in his chest as an angel finger pressed against his lips to quiet him. The look Aziraphale was giving him was halfway between hurt and excitement. "Why don't you expect anything?" he asked, voice quiet. 

Crowley had to wait a few seconds for his brain to reboot. When it finally managed to do so the strangled shout that wrenched from his chest was, " _ You're an angel! _ "

And now Aziraphale actually looked quite indignant. He crossed his arms and puffed up his cheeks and  _ pouted _ . "I had noticed, thank you, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Crowley's jaw didn't seem physically capable of returning to its proper configuration. "An angel!" he cried again though now there was a hint of a question in the tone. "Angels don't, I mean-... _ do they?! _ "

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale huffed, and suddenly he was laughing. "Didn't anyone ever explain to you were the Nephilim came from?"

Rusty wheels were struggling to turn in Crowley's head behind wide, genuinely shocked eyes. "But...then...you?"

Oh, but now the angel was blushing again, and it was the most lovely sight. "Well, that is, um, I mean, not... _ with  _ anyone…"

Crowley's eyebrows were in danger of vacating his head entirely. 

"That is to say, I-I never really, well...it just didn't seem  _ right  _ somehow, with a human, you know?" Aziraphale was wringing his hands and worrying at the buttons on his waistcoat. "B-but, you know, it is such a curious and wonderful concept, and there are oh-so-many books on the matter, and sometimes you'd go missing for decades at a time and I would get so lonely, and-" He realized he'd babbled himself into a corner when Crowley's pupils blew out, nearly devouring all of the reptilian yellow of his eyes.

"You used to-" The demon's throat was dry. He desperately licked at his lips and swallowed several times in an attempt to summon some moisture. "You  _ touched yourself? _ While  _ thinking of me?! _ "

Oh goodness, the tables had certainly turned, and now it was Aziraphale desperately looking to escape the oppressive heat of the bookshop. "From time to time," he squeaked. 

Crowley took an entire count of ten before blinking once. " _ Holy shit. _ "

"Language, dear."

_ "Why?! _ "

"Because it's impolite and unnecessary, Crowley."

"No no no," the demon exclaimed, feeling very near to having a total breakdown. "The other thing! Why- Why me?" His eyes were curious, but mostly they were filled with disbelief, desperation, and a rather unhealthy bit of fear. 

The answer, however, was far too simple, though Aziraphale had never before allowed himself to voice it out loud.

"Because, you foolish serpent, my type is  _ you _ ."

The sound that escaped the demon's throat then was something akin to a kitten's mewling cry. It made Aziraphale's heart melt.

"I think, my dear," said the angel, slowly and with purpose, "that I've been foolishly withholding information that you needed to hear."

Crowley had gone very pale again, and Aziraphale could see that his lovely hands were trembling. The angel almost reached up to still them, but instead he lifted one soft, steady hand to the demon's cheek. Crowley twitched,like he might have been considering bolting, but then he leaned into the hand with a whimper. 

"Crowley, my dear," Aziraphale said, gathering all his courage so he could be strong for both of them, "I love you." The sharp, shuddering breath that was drawn from Crowley's chest spurred the angel on. "I love you so very much, my dearest demon. Am  _ in  _ love with you, as a matter of fact. Deeply, uncontrollably, irrevocably in love."

Crowley collapsed. Aziraphale caught the brunt of his weight, but together they went spilling to the floor. 

"Sssorry, angel," the demon gasped, a bit of his hiss seeping through. "Ssseem to have lossst control of my kneesss." He'd closed his eyes at some point during the fall, but now he opened them and Aziraphale could see that they were glassy with a tentative, desperate, fragile hope. "D'you...d'you really mean that? Truly?"

Aziraphale smiled and carefully reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind the demon's ear. "I've never meant anything more truthfully in all my life, my darling," he swore.

Crowley took a deep breath, let it out slowly, swallowed. He lifted shaking hands to hover millimeters from the angel's face. Then he asked, in a reverent kind of way, "May I kiss you, angel?"

Aziraphale couldn't speak, so he nodded.

Crowley's fingers stopped trembling the moment they met the angel's skin. He leaned forward at an almost agonizingly plodding speed and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss that made the air vanish from both their lungs. 

For Crowley there was something terribly important in that kiss, something he couldn't have described aloud but knew was there just the same: a confirmation. 

A sob escaped the demon's chest, but it was punctuated by the most genuine smile that had ever graced his face. "Fuck, Aziraphale, you have no idea how long I've been dreaming of this!"

Aziraphale didn't get a chance to playfully scold Crowley for his language again because he was yanked into another kiss that tore any semblance of rational thought right out of his head. It was desperate, longing, pleading, lustful, and when they finally broke apart again it left them both gasping. 

"I love you too," Crowley finally said, with that same gorgeous, teary-eyed smile on his face. "Loved you for so long, only you, only ever you, forever you!" He interspersed each thought with a smattering of further kisses until Aziraphale had dissolved into a mess of joyous giggles. 

"I'm so sorry I never said anything," the angel said, his eyes sparkling. "I just never...I mean, you're a gorgeous demon with the power of temptation! You could have anyone you want!" 

Crowley sputtered at the word gorgeous, but was growling by the time Aziraphale finished the sentence. "Never wanted anyone else," he huffed, his hands slipping down to cling to the lapels of the angel's jacket. "Only you. Beautiful, wonderful, ethereal, ineffably  _ infuriating  _ you.  _ My  _ angel,  _ my  _ Aziraphale."

The possessiveness of the statements made something deep in Aziraphale's stomach leap. This situation had begun in one place and ended up in a rather different one, and while he was  _ extremely  _ happy it had, he was quite ready to tread backward a little now that they were on the same page.

Surprising even himself, Aziraphale leaned forward with a firm hand on Crowley's thigh and smirked at the way the demon twitched in surprise. He leaned closer, until their cheeks touched feather-light, until his lips were nearly against Crowley's ear, and then he whispered, "Tell me about your dream."

"Ngk-" Crowley sputtered, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. "I think, perhaps, um…" He was red right down to his neck, which Aziraphale honestly found quite endearing. The angel bit his lip as he gazed into his demon's blown eyes, and that (not-so-)innocent action had Crowley pressing both palms painfully into his lap in an attempt to hide his body's quite glaringly obvious reaction. 

When Crowley made no attempt to elaborate further, Aziraphale tightened the fingers that were pressing into the demon's thigh. "I believe the words you said were…" He leaned close again, but this time he held the demon's gaze so he could see the exact reaction. " 'Zira...pleassse... _ harder _ …"

Crowley might have discorporated right then and there if Aziraphale hadn't had such a firm grip on his leg. 

"F-fuck," the demon croaked.

Aziraphale grinned in a way that made Crowley genuinely wonder if the bastard had been a demon-in-hiding this entire time. Then the angel (perhaps) stood, crooked a finger in a 'follow me' gesture, and walked toward the stairs that led to the flat above the bookshop.

The way Crowley walked had often been described with words like 'slutty' and 'indecent'. But to the demon, in that moment, the way the angel was moving put anything his own hips had ever done to shame. Crowley stared with his mouth hanging open until Aziraphale disappeared up the first few steps, and then he scrambled to his feet and ran after him like his life depended on it. 

Aziraphale had somehow managed to reach the top of the stairs already and was disappearing around the corner as Crowley tripped over himself to follow. The flat upstairs was small, only a few rooms, but the demon suddenly felt terribly overwhelmed, and so he scented the air with his tongue to trace the angel to the last room at the end of the hall. 

He approached cautiously. 

It was the bedroom ( _ Since when has the angel even had a bed? _ ) and there was a single small lamp alight on the bedside table. The bed itself was a queen-sized affair adorned with beige tartan ( _ Of course… _ ) sheets with fluffy white pillows. There was precious little else in the room besides several stacks of books piled up alongside the walls. 

Crowley scented the air again. He was certain this was where the angel had gone, but unless he was hiding behind the bed…

The demon took a few steps into the room and jumped, in spite of himself, when the door shut behind him. 

He didn't even manage to fully turn around before Aziraphale was on him, fists clenched in the fabric of the demon's black jacket, leaning up to claim Crowley's mouth.  _ This  _ kiss was passion, plain and simple. The angel pressed his lips  _ hard  _ to the demon's, probing with his tongue until he gained entrance. Crowley moaned embarrassingly into the feeling, his body reacting without his permission as Aziraphale edged them back toward the bed.

"A-angel!" the demon gasped as his knees buckled against tartan, knocking him down to his arse. "W-what's gotten into you?"

Aziraphale's smile was the strangest combination of innocent and wanton. "Whatever do you mean, my love?" he purred as he leaned down over Crowley, prompting the demon to fall back on his elbows. 

"You know fucking well what I mean, Aziraphale," Crowley huffed. He was trying his very hardest to be steady and sure and confident, but the look in the angel's eyes was making him tremble all over. "You've never been- I mean, you never seemed like you- GAH! I don't know!" He let himself fall flat to the bed as Aziraphale slithered ( _ Since when can he fucking move like that?! _ ) over top of him, straddling his hips, a hand on either side of the demon's head.

The angel leaned down close, so that their noses were nearly touching and growled - honest to goodness,  _ growled _ \- "Tell me about your dream."

Crowley gulped, audibly this time. Ridiculous as it may have seemed given his present circumstances, the thought of divulging the things he'd been fantasizing about in this most recent dream filled the demon with a kind of embarrassment that was almost painful. He foolishly found himself shaking his head. 

But Aziraphale didn't seem disappointed. In fact, he seemed to have expected the response, judging by the way he was smiling. 

"Fine," the angel accepted, and then leaned to the side to whisper the next bit into Crowley's ear. "Then I'll just keep trying things until you make the same sounds you made in your sleep…"

Crowley's eyes bulged wide just as Aziraphale clamped his teeth on the demon's earlobe and  _ pulled _ , just hard enough to elicit a shudder. 

"F-fuck-" Crowley gasped. He felt his breathing hitch and his hips twitch without his permission.  _ Fuck, shit...he's barely done anything and I'm about to lose it! _

Letting go of the reddened ear, the angel slid the tip of his tongue down to Crowley's throat. Here he kissed and licked and -  _ OH! _ This bite was a little harder, testing the waters. The throaty moan he got in response was all the encouragement Aziraphale needed. He kissed the reddened spot gently, trailed his tongue to a new location and -  _ Sweet fuck! _

The pattern repeated all along the demon's throat and collar until he was covered in beautiful red marks. Then Aziraphale lifted his head, pressed a kiss to Crowley's mouth, and sank his teeth deep into Crowley's lower lip. 

Crowley  _ keened _ . He hated himself for doing it, but loved Aziraphale for being the cause of it. 

"Y-you're gonna discorporate me, angel!" he whined.

Aziraphale tutted. "Oh, my dearest demon, I haven't even gotten to your clothes yet!" 

Crowley's face burned.  _ Holy shit, he's right, oh fuck, I am FUCKED. _

"Let's fix that, shall we?"

"Ngk-"

Aziraphale wiggled his way backward until he was sitting on Crowley's legs-

_ Fuckfuckshitfuckshit- _

-and took the demon's hands to gently pull him into a seated position. From there he pushed the black jacket from Crowley's shoulders, helped the poor, stammering dear to remove it entirely, and tossed it unceremoniously to the bedroom floor. A moment later the angel's own hundred-and-eighty-year-old coat joined it, and Crowley couldn't lie to himself: that reckless abandon concerning his precious coat was  _ agonizingly  _ hot.

"What next?" Aziraphale mused. 

Oh, he was enjoying this part of the game  _ far _ too much. 

"What about this?" The angel put a hand on Crowley's thin little neck-tie, wrapped his fingers around it, and gave a little experimental tug that made Crowley squeak. "Hmm...no," the angel decided with a truly devious grin. "I think we'll keep this bit  _ on _ ."

_ Fuuuucccck...fuckfuckfuck… _

Everything else, however, was apparently good to go because Aziraphale began pulling and tossing without a care. He paused when Crowley's chest was bared, considered the naked skin, and lovingly ran soft fingers along this new expanse of loveliness. Crowley couldn't hold back the shiver that rolled through his body as the angel's hands explored his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, to eventually come down and rest on the sides of his waist. 

"Mmm…" Aziraphale hummed, appreciative. "You  _ feel  _ marvelous, my dear, and you're  _ so beautiful _ …"

Crowley's breath hitched in his throat. He was practically  _ compelled _ to argue with the compliment. "N-no, I'm not-"

Aziraphale quickly pressed a finger against his lips. "Shush," he demanded. "I'll not hear a single negative word against the gorgeous creature before me." Letting the finger stroke down the demon's chin, throat, collarbone, Aziraphale leaned into press delicate kisses to all this wonderfully exposed skin. 

Crowley felt like his flesh was burning, but in the most amazing possible way. He fought with the voice in his head that told him that this wasn't really happening, that he'd never actually woken up and that this was just more dream, however vivid. Or, it was real, but it was some cruel joke, and any moment the angel was going to get up and walk away, laughing about how gullible he was to believe someone so  _ good  _ could ever love a demon.

And yet… Aziraphale kept going, his touches gentle but firm as he pressed Crowley back down onto the bed. When the angel's hand reached down to unbutton his trousers the demon was certain...yes, his heart had  _ definitely  _ flat-out stopped there for a few moments. 

Aziraphale slid down to the edge of the bed and stood. He didn't reach for Crowley's newly-loosened trousers, which made the demon's heart sink.  _ Here it is,  _ he thought.  _ This is the part where he mocks you and walks away.  _

But instead the angel began unbuttoning his waistcoat and ( _ Oh! _ ) that made Crowley's heart hammer wildly back to life. 

The waistcoat fell carelessly to the floor. That little tartan bowtie, loosened first (a little too sensually to have been unintentional), soon joined. Then the trousers, wiggled down playfully until the angel was standing there in just his shirt and a pair of ( _ Well, that's a surprise… _ ) black boxer shorts. 

_ Now _ he went for Crowley's trousers. The demon lifted his hips with a little squeak of disbelief as they were yanked from his long, thin legs and discarded with the rest of the clothing, quickly followed by the too-tight black pants that had been strangling him for some time now. 

He was laughing now; a strained, pathetic whimper of a laugh the demon's nerves got the better of him. "You know you could have just-" He lifted one hand with his fingers pressed together as though to snap.

"Oh," said Aziraphale, with a grin like a kid at Christmas. "But that wouldn't be even half as fun!"

Extraordinarily pleasant chills went up and down Crowley's spine. 

As Aziraphale rejoined him on the bed, crawling on top of him like an animal claiming its prey, he pressed soft, sensual kisses to every inch of bare skin and whispered wondrous things Crowley could never have truly let himself believe he would ever hear:

"I've wanted to do this for so long, my love."

"-loved you so desperately, never daring-"

"-longed to touch you this way, to lavish my love on you, only you…"

"-deserve to be worshipped, my darling…"

Crowley felt, rather than heard, the strangled little cry that escaped him without his permission. "Angel, I-" He choked on the words, swallowed them as Aziraphale's mouth pressed against his own. 

"I know what you're going to say," the angel purred as he broke the kiss, "and I'll not hear a word." His fingers reached up to card through Crowley's hair at the same time that his hips leaned into Crowley's groin, pressing them together, making the demon's breaths quicken. "You are gorgeous," Aziraphale continued. "You are strong and clever and the most wonderfully imaginative being I've ever known. You are  _ good _ , no matter what you say to the contrary. You are my best friend, my whole world, my reason for being. You are perfect, and I love you, and if I want to worship you, that is exactly what I am going to do. Understand?"

Crowley's instinct was always to argue back whenever anything even remotely positive was said about him. But right at that moment, with wet eyes that he was desperately trying to will dry, and an angel looking down at him with an entire universe of affection on every detail of his face, the demon found that he simply couldn't think of a negative thing to say. "I understand," he found himself whimpering instead.

Aziraphale hadn't moved while he awaited his love's response, but now that he had it he claimed Crowley's mouth again while simultaneously reaching down between them to claim the demon's cock as well. The sudden firm pressure of the angel's hand had the demon moaning into their kiss, his body betraying him by arching into the touch. 

"A-angel," he gasped. Aziraphale feathered a finger against his lips again, smiling. 

"Let me worship you, love," he said as he stroked and wiggled his way down Crowley's body. "Let me hear those wonderful sounds you made in your dreams." He ran his thumb against the head of Crowley's twitching erection and watched, overjoyed, as the demon wriggled beneath him. "Let me hear you cry out my name," he hissed, a heartbeat before taking Crowley's erection in his mouth.

It wasn't immediately, because the shock of the new sensation was simply too great, but a few short seconds later, as the angel drew as much of Crowley into him as he was physically able, the demon gave him exactly what he'd been asking for. 

_ "Oh fuck...fuck, Aziraphale!" _

It was like the sweetest hymn to the angel's ears, and it encouraged him to draw out more. He pressed his tongue against the underside of his lover's cock and stroked the pressure up, up, until he was barely touching the tip, and then pressed back down as far as he could go, savoring every twitch and shiver as he might savor the most delicious of delicacies. 

"Oh Go-" Crowley stuttered as his back arched and his head drove back into the bed entirely of its own volition. "Oh...oh  _ fuck _ , Aziraphale, that feels so fucking good!"

Aziraphale made a pleased little hum as he moved, and that too made Crowley moan and squirm.

"F-fuuu- A-are you sure you've never done this before?" Crowley gasped.

Aziraphale looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and let himself slide all the way up to answer with plump, shining, wet lips. "You  _ doubt  _ me?" he asked, playfully indignant. 

Crowley shook his head emphatically. "N-no, of course not angel!" he stumbled, a flush in his cheeks. "But you're just so go- AH!" His praise was cut off into a suddering cry when Aziraphale reached up to massage a warm finger against Crowley's entrance. 

"It's all rather surprisingly intuitive," the angel said, tone pleasant, as if he were talking about learning to ride a bike and not making his demon's body thrust into the air.

Crowley had to laugh at that - couldn't help himself, honestly - but his mirth soon dissolved back into wanton keening as Aziraphle took his cock into the back of his throat, all the while massaging that tight ring of muscles, teasing it, making the demon  _ long  _ for more. 

Aziraphale pulled up again, letting his tongue linger for a moment on the tip of Crowley's cock. The teasing finger further below pressed, just a little. "May I?" the angel asked. It was somehow overly polite and sadistically sexy at the same time. 

Crowley could hardly get his brain working long enough to string together the semblance of a sentence. "Sweet fucking  _ hell _ , angel, fuck, yes, anything you want!" 

Aziraphale was grinning as he enveloped his lover's erection once more, and at the same time pressed a miraculously slick finger into the demon. 

It was almost too much for Crowley, whose long fingers were fisted deep into the blankets beneath him, holding on for dear life. He fought to keep his breaths even and his heart beating properly as Aziraphale's mouth moved earnestly and a second finger pressed inside. When the angel pressed those fingers deep and curled them forward Crowley couldn't stop the cry that flew from his lips as his body bucked forward.

"Go-! Sa-!  _ FUCK _ , Aziraphale!" he all but screamed. He could feel a powerful heat growing deep inside him and knew he wouldn't last much longer at this rate. And that just wouldn't do because there was only one way he wanted this encounter to end. 

He untangled his hands from the crumpled sheets and reached down to - gently, but with some urgency - fist them instead in his angel's feather-down curls. The angel looked at him at the touch and met the demon's blown-out, half-lidded eyes.

"P-please," Crowley breathed, voice husky, words lost. "P-please, Aziraphale...I'm yours, a-all yours...please t _-take me!_ "

All amusing comments and playful teasing was forgotten. Aziraphale's gaze grew heavy with barely-contained desire. He extricated himself from his lover's cock and struggled to get the words out without seeming too desperate. "You're certain?"

It was all Crowley could do not to cry. "Yes, angel, yes, please, I'm sure, I'm certain, can't stand it any longer, want you, need you,  _ need you, please, please, please! _ "

The way he begged and writhed had every inch of Aziraphale quaking with love and lust until he too was unable to take any more. He pressed a firm hand against Crowley's stomach, holding him down as he scissored his fingers and added a third, stretching them to make sure the demon was truly prepared. 

Then he pulled the fingers away entirely, and before Crowley even had a chance to whimper at the loss of sensation he'd performed another quick miracle and slid himself halfway into his lover's waiting body. 

The sharp gasp that was half hiss made the angel control his urges and stop short, but the groan that followed, combined with the way Crowley's eyes were rolling back in his head, spurred Aziraphale on again. He covered the remaining distance slowly, tantalizingly, savoring each second, each twitch, until there was nowhere left to go. Then he leaned over Crowley's body and pressed several sweet kisses against his throat. 

"Still with me darling?" the angel breathed. 

Crowley whimpered. "Just barely, angel."

Aziraphale pulled back just as slowly as he'd gone in. Then he began a terribly gentle, wonderfully steady pace, gauging Crowley's reactions, watching closely for any sign of discomfort. But on the contrary, the demon's chest heaved with each thrust, his fists resuming the mangling of the innocent bedsheets. The sounds coming from deep within him were becoming more and more scandalous more and more desperate. 

Aziraphale ramped up his speed slowly, wanting to last as long as possible, to keep going until Crowley's over-sensitized body was quivering beneath him. 

But his chest filled with fire when he finally heard the words he was so hoping he'd hear from the demon's lips again:

" _ Harder! Aziraphale, love, p-please, harder-! _ "

"Oh darling," Aziraphale moaned. "I thought you'd never ask."

He pulled almost all of the way out before slamming back in at exactly the right angel, striking that spot that made Crowley scream in the most wonderful ways. Again and again, he thrust harder and harder, hands firm around the demon's hips, yanking him back in time with the pounding, bringing the two bodies as close as they could be again and again.

"Come for me, darling, my lovely Crowley," the angel gasped over the demon's cries. "Come for me and let me gaze upon you as I tear you down and remake you."

The words were what drove the demon over the edge. With tears in his eyes he gasped and stuttered, every muscle in his body tensing and releasing as one, his release spilling between their bodies, hot and sticky.

The tensing of Crowley's body made Aziraphale's thrusts erratic. Only a few moments later he followed his lover, filling his body as he came, gasping for air with the demon's name on his lips.

The angel collapsed over his demon lover's body. They breathed unevenly together, slick, sticky skin pressed hot and wet and wonderful. Heartbeats raced in tandem as though their bodies were in sync, one mimicking the other.

Crowley was the first one to speak, some time later.

"I'm still dreaming," he concluded once his brain had caught up with his body. "There's no way that actually happened, so the only reasonable explanation is that I'm still dreaming."

Aziraphale raised his head just enough to smirk and cock an eyebrow at the demon. "Would you like me to pinch you, my dear?"

Crowley snaked his lanky arms around the angel's body and squeezed tight. "Don't you dare," he growled. "To have this I would happily sleep for the rest of eternity."

Aziraphale reached up to card his fingers through Crowley's fiery hair, which was adorably dishevelled. "Even if you knew it wasn't real?" he asked, trailing lazy kisses along the demon's shoulder and collarbone, 

"Well, every logical instinct I have is telling me that it could never  _ be  _ real, so-"

Aziraphale pushed himself up onto his elbow so he could look into Crowley's beautiful serpentine eyes. "Why in the world would you think that?"

Despite all that had just occurred, Crowley's answering smile was a sad one. "Because an angel - never mind one as amazing as you - could never love a demon like me."

He barely had the words out of his mouth before Aziraphale had devoured them with a desperate, passionate kiss that took Crowley's breath away. 

"I can, and I do," the angel growled into the demon's mouth. "And I fully intend to continue doing so for as long as you'll have me."

Crowley smiled, a shy, delicate thing, but brilliant and hopeful. "So...forever then?" he joked.

Aziraphale's response was most decidedly  _ not  _ a joke. "Forever and always, my love." Then, with the most  _ un _ -angelic grin possible:

"Ready for round two?"


End file.
